


Landslide

by kittenofdoomage



Category: Supernatural
Genre: A/B/O, Alpha!John, Angst, Character Death, F/M, Fuck Or Die, Knotting, Sex, Smut, Vampire Hunt, alpha/beta/omega, omega!reader, turning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-26
Updated: 2019-02-12
Packaged: 2019-10-17 05:32:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 14,956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17554319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kittenofdoomage/pseuds/kittenofdoomage
Summary: The only person you could trust was yourself. You’d relied on that to stay alive. Until trusting someone else becomes the only way to save yourself. An AU where John came back instead of Mary.





	1. Chapter 1

You had one hand on the steering wheel, the other resting on your thigh as the truck trundled down the dirt track, the suspension squeaking with each pothole and crevice. A spring on the seat had popped loose which stabbed your butt whenever you hit a particularly deep hole in the road.

The radio started to crackle and you lifted your foot from the gas, slowing as the radio hissed and went off completely. You pulled your phone out, sighing heavily when you saw the signal bars completely empty.

Ghosts and their friggin’ EMF disrupting everything.

Turning the engine off, you grabbed your duffel from the passenger seat, hopping down and trudging the last few meters up the road until the trees cleared. At least this case wasn’t a bust - after a few manic months where demons, ghouls, and all manner of nasties hadn’t stopped coming for you, you’d found yourself a dry spell. Hunting was a distraction from facing your actual problems so you’d started looking into the real low level cases.

Not that you’d touch the high-level crap with a ten-foot pole.

You might have done them once upon a time. When you’d hunted with Jason, you were always looking for something scarier, more dangerous. But that was what he’d wanted - the glory.

All glory got him was his throat ripped out by a bloodsucker but by that point you were hardly concerned with his welfare. He was a violent drunk at best and you’d had nothing but trouble getting tangled up with him.

That was the choice you had though. Omegas didn’t last without an Alpha. Omega hunters lasted even less time and your body was building a resistance to the hormones you’d been taking to block the heats. Finding another Alpha was imperative to your survival yet you found yourself avoiding them altogether.

You’d loved Jason at one point. When you were younger, starry-eyed and out for adventure. It took years to see the constant degradation, the gaslighting, the controlling behavior. He used his size to intimidate you and others and you meekly went along with it because…

Because that’s what Omegas do, right? They submit, they’re  _owned_. Or at least, that’s what Jason wanted.

He didn’t get it in the end.

His prize was an early death at thirty-five and it left you with an inability to trust anyone but yourself. Other people were dangerous, unpredictable and selfish. Hunters were worse.

Taking care of the spook was simple - the damn thing barely managed a threatening attack. You returned to your truck feeling more than a little numb, wondering if it was time to settle down and live a normal life.

Die. In a normal life.

The truck rattled to life on the deserted road and you continued on, knowing that as soon as you got back to the motel, you’d be looking for another case.

Tomorrow was another day.

*****

Sometimes the smallest lead could land you in more trouble than you knew what to do with. Vampires. A bigger pack than anyone had seen in decades. You couldn’t handle it alone and the only five numbers you had were coming up disconnected one by one. The last one started to ring and your stomach sank.

They were last people you wanted to be involved with.

Sam answered on the seventh ring and you swallowed your nerves as his deep voice echoed in your ear. “Sam,” you muttered, catching your reflection in the truck rear view mirror.

“ _Y/N_ ,” Sam replied coolly. “ _Everything okay?_ ”

You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose. “I’ve got a pack of thirty vamps in Branson, Missouri. I can’t handle it by myself.”

There was a mumbled “ _wait a sec_ ” and Sam started talking to someone in the background. You tapped your hand on the wheel, wondering how long it would take them to get there. Sam’s hand scraped the receiver as he moved it, clearing his throat. “ _We can be there in six hours. You safe?_ ”

“I don’t think they got my scent,” you replied, watching the huge warehouse at the end of the street. You’d only gotten a glimpse before you’d backed away, taking the smart option.

“ _Good. Text me your motel. We’ll get there as quick as we can_.”

You hung up the call, backing your truck down the street and turning around, driving towards your motel. A part of your mind was toying with the idea of leaving the case, letting the Winchesters handle it. They were experienced, ruthless, and dangerous as all hell.

Okay, you didn’t know them that well. You’d met them in passing, helping out with research and sharing information. You’d never fought with them, but you’d known people who had. Emphasis on the past tense.

Last you heard, they’d set up shop in Kansas, a permanent base. Jody Mills had informed you, on your last stop in Sioux Falls, that they’d saved the world again and mentioned something about their father coming back from the dead.

Winchester heritage was like a hunter legend. No one knew quite what the truth was because it was all twisted in whispers. Hunters loved stories and the Winchester’s tales had never failed to entertain. For all you knew, they’d been to the moon and fought aliens. Some hunters would believe it.

Jason had idolized them. He told everyone about a case he’d had with them, a werewolf hunt. The way he spoke, you’d think he’d saved their lives, that they were best buds for life. You knew for a fact that Dean and Sam couldn’t stand him and that hunt had nearly ended with Sam getting bit.

Waiting for the Winchesters made your nerves worse. You were days out from a heat - the only reason you took the case was because one of the articles mentioned a cult. Being around vamps on a normal day was bad, but with your heat starting to prickle at your skin and making your scent that much more potent, it was suicidal.

You had to hang back.

The Impala pulled up exactly six hours after you’d texted Sam the address of the motel. Three dark figures got out and you frowned, only expecting the brothers. Maybe that weird angel had come with them.

A knock at the door a few seconds later drew you from the window and you opened the door, fixing a shaky smile on Sam. He smiled back and Dean grunted at you, following his brother in. The third man hovered on the threshold, staring at you and you swallowed, taking a step back.

“Oh, Y/N,” Sam stuttered, “this is our dad. John Winchester.” He paused, glancing at Dean as if he wasn’t sure what he was saying. “Dad, this is Y/N.”

John was still looking at you and your throat went dry as you tried to greet him. A squeaked “hi” made it out and he nodded, finally walking into the motel room. As he breezed past, his scent filled your nose; sandalwood, musk, and the faintest touch of leather underneath the warm woody aroma. It stunned you for a second before you managed to shut the door and compose yourself.

“Vamps, huh?” Dean muttered, instantly going to the refrigerator of the tiny motel room. The three of them in there, all of them over six foot, was slightly overwhelming. “Sam said you got a pack?”

“About thirty,” you rushed out, sliding past John to get to your bag on the bed. “Rough estimate; there might be more.”

“More?” John frowned, looking over at Dean. “I know vamps had a bit of a comeback but more than thirty in a nest?”

Dean shrugged and Sam hummed dismissively. “There’s less of us now. Bet you’re missing the quiet, huh?” the youngest Winchester’s question was directed at you and you laughed nervously. “How close did you get?”

“A window on the north side of the building,” you replied. “It’s on Baker Street, other side of town. I… I couldn’t get any closer than that. The best entrance is on the west side - they don’t seem too concerned with security.” Sam looked at Dean, who sighed and rolled his shoulders.

“We’ve got three hours until dawn,” Sam mused. “Nest this size, we need daylight on our side.”

“Breakfast?” Dean suggested and the other two men agreed. You raised a hand, feeling a little inferior with the three of them there.

“It’s probably best if I don’t hang around,” you were stumbling over your words, embarrassed by your inadequacy as a hunter, “not when you’re going in for the nest cause I’m… I’m a bit of a liability.”

Dean frowned and Sam reached out to touch your arm. “Everything okay?”

You smiled awkwardly, not sure if he’d understand. Sam and Dean were both Betas; your genetic type wasn’t exactly common these days.

“She’s close to her heat,” John murmured suddenly. Your head whipped around, eyes wide as they focused on the oldest of the three men. His scent was still thick in your nose, making your stomach churn. Every instinct in the basic primal structure of your cells was screaming at you.

Alpha.

Sam raised an eyebrow as your breathing quickened enough for him to notice. “My scent will be stronger,” you said, voice a hushed whisper and eyes glued to John’s. His nostrils flared; god, he was scenting you. “I’m lucky the vamps didn’t pick me up already.”

“Dangerous game,” John drawled, shoving his hands into his pockets and unhelpfully framing his crotch. You willing your stupid hormones not to react but it was too late. One more second and John would know exactly the effect he was having on you. “Hunting alone when you’re Omega.”

You clenched your fists and responded, trying to keep an even tone. “Hence, the call. I thought it was witches.”

Dean had had that argument with you before and last time, it hadn’t ended well; it fell to him to intervene in the brewing fight. “Y/N can hang back,” he decided loudly, “and we’ll go get breakfast, kill some vamps, home by bedtime.” He grinned, hoping his tone was enough to stop them rowing. “Yeah?”

John grunted, still staring at you and Sam nodded. You tore your eyes from John, grabbing your duffel and slinging it over your shoulder. “You’re leaving now?” Sam asked, frowning.

“Yeah,” you replied, not even looking at him. “Liability. Getting myself gone.” He knew exactly the reason you weren’t hanging around. You didn’t trust them. You didn’t trust anyone.

“No breakfast?” John arched one eyebrow as he delivered his question and you finally looked back at him, surprised by the comment.

“I’m not hungry.” Your reply was almost robotic, programmed as a response to any invitation of its kind. Dean chuckled and shook his head as John gave him a reprimanding look that might have worked a decade ago. You knew why he was laughing; he’d taken great offense to your opinion that they got people killed but understood your need for isolation.

“Y/N thinks a large group of people is called a ‘no thanks’,” he muttered with a grin in your direction as you narrowed your eyes in a glare. “She probably won’t show up to her own funeral.”

John’s gaze returned to you and you ignored the need to tell Dean where to shove it. Sam did the honors, hissing at Dean to not be a jerk as the elder brother made a face at him. “What he said,” you mumbled, moving towards the door. You half-expected John to block your path but he didn’t, moving gracefully out of your way, although his eyes never left you.

You felt like your heart was going to burst out of your chest as you sat in the front seat of your truck, gripping the wheel like you might fall if you didn’t. He was still watching you; you could feel it.

Turning the key in the ignition, you flung the truck into reverse, tearing out of the parking lot and away from the motel. It took everything you had not to look in the rear view, lest the Impala was following you. A small blue Citroen overtook, beeping loudly when you didn’t get out of the way fast enough.

By the time you reached the turnpike, you had managed to avoid a full-blown panic attack. There was a rest stop ahead and you pulled into it, reaching over into your duffel bag for your cigarettes - your dirty little habit. Lighting one up, you groaned as the nicotine flooded your system, leaning your head back in your seat.

The window smashed inwards and you barely had time to scream before a hand covered your mouth.

 


	2. Chapter 2

It was hard to focus on one pain when you woke, tied to a post with your legs stretched out across the filthy warehouse floor. You opened your eyes, unwittingly groaning as you did so, catching the attention of your captors.

“It’s awake,” one of the vampires murmured, tossing a glance in your direction. 

A flash of a memory entered your mind as you recognized the taste of blood on your lips.

It took a few moments for the blurry female vampire crouching beside you to come into focus and you stared at her in confusion. “She’s figuring it out,” the vamp purred, touching your face with her stony cold hand. “Feels good doesn’t it? That venom running through your veins?”

You choked out a gasp, blood splattering your lips. 

The woman giggled. “You might have a few internal injuries but don’t worry - you’ll fix right up when you’ve fed.” Her thumb caressed your bloody bottom lip. “You should thank me. My boys,” she glanced around at the male vampires filling the warehouse, “they get a bit excited when they sniff out an Omega.”

“Delaney,” a rough male voice growled from the dark shadows of the warehouse. A figure emerged and Delaney, the female vampire, stood, turning on her heel to face him. “Don’t toy with it.”

Delaney’s upper lip curled back into a snarl and the male vampire stepped into the dim light, dropping his cold eyes on you. “When can we kill her?”

“We’re not killing her.” His boots scuffed across the floor as he moved closer, dropping down onto one knee. He wasn’t eye level with you by a long shot - the guy had to be at least six four. Dark hair hung in his face, almost obscuring most of his features. “This one serves a purpose. She’s a hunter. Trained.” He tilted his head to the side, sniffing softly. “Omega.”

“You’re believing an old fairy tale, Aron,” Delaney scoffed, folding her arms across her chest.

Aron smiled, cupping your chin. You eyed him in defiance, pulling your face from his hold. “I wasn’t alone,” you ground out. Everything was hurting now - one injury wasn’t distinguishable from another. It was more pain than you’d ever experienced. Slowly, you became aware of sounds you couldn’t hear before and the warehouse seemed to grow lighter with every second.

Sunrise was coming and you could feel it in the hollow of your throat.

“I don’t smell an Alpha on you,” Aron commented, sniffing delicately. “Yours was the only scent.”

“Winchesters,” you chuckled. “The Winchesters are here.”

He stared at you in horror for a second or two before laughing loudly. “My girl, I’m not frightened of hunters. They believed us to be almost extinct. The Men Of Letters thought they could destroy us, and while they may have destroyed our Alpha…” Aron stood up, gesturing around him. “It does not mean our race is done.”

Delaney strutted towards the big male, sliding her arms around his waist. “We’re getting stronger every day, honey.”

“You’re rebuilding the race,” you deduced, looking around at the numerous vamps lounging in the darkness, hiding from the sun as it rose over the horizon. You had to stall - Sam and Dean would be here any minute. “Like cockroaches riding out a storm.”

Aron laughed at your insubordination. “How does it feel to be a cockroach?” Slipping away from the female hanging off of him, Aron hauled you to your feet, ignoring the cry as your bindings dragged up the rusty metal support beam, cutting open your arms. The vamp held you by your throat, painfully, his secondary set of teeth dropping, inches from your face. 

“They’re gonna kill you,” you spluttered, kicking your legs uselessly.

“What do you think they’re gonna do to you?” he asked, arching an eyebrow. His huge frame was pushing into you, his breath reeking of whiskey and blood. “You’re mine now, pretty little Omega.”

Delaney growled and you heard the sound of an engine coming closer at high speed. The vamps heard it too, scattering seconds before the wall of the warehouse crumbled, the front of a van destroying it before coming to a stop in the rubble.

Aron dropped you and you hit the floor, legs crumpled underneath you. Your arms were bleeding now and as the crumbling wall fell apart more, sunlight splashed onto your legs, burning the skin through the holes in the fabric.

Dean appeared first, taking out three vamps before Sam emerged behind him. You screamed for them, just as your bindings came loose and strong arms dragged you away. “No!” Kicking out as hard as you could, you struggled, feeling your second set of teeth descend.

It was a bizarre experience, but the surge of strength that came with it was intense. You struck out, catching your attacker with a elbow to the throat. They dropped you and you scrambled to your feet, wincing at the pain resonating in your bones.

Everything was chaos. You felt dizzy, overwhelmed by the noise, able to hear the heartbeats of the three hunters hacking and slashing at their opponents. Scents confused you and you stumbled forward, clutching your head. “Too much,” you whimpered, crashing to your knees.

“Dad, no!”

Sam’s shout made you look up; John was in front of you, machete raised, aimed for your head.

You screamed, dropping to the ground as your mind refused to cope with any more and everything went dark.

*****

“She’s been turned.”

The rope felt familiar. So did the metal beam.

“We can cure her.” A second voice.

There were three of them. You could smell them individually, hear their hearts racing as they argued. Were they talking about you? One of them smelled like chocolate sauce on hot waffles. God, your head hurt.

“Be realistic, Sam. We’ve got thirty corpses and no way of knowing which one of them did it.”

“So, we figure it out, Dean. Like we always do.”

“We don’t have time,” the first voice said.

John.

John, Dean and Sam. Winchesters. Hunters, yeah, it was all flooding back.

Shit. “What the fuck?” you groaned, lifting your head, forcing your eyes to open. The post you were tied to this time was out of the bright sunlight flooding the rest of the building. 

“Y/N,” Sam was on his knees, right there and fuck, he was huge, “you with us?”

He smelled amazing. Your gums itched and you realized why with a pang of agony thumping through your chest. “They turned me,” you whispered, staring at Sam. His expression became sympathetic. “They fucking turned me.” It sounded like a sob this time. “No.”

“It’s okay,” Sam murmured, pushing your hair back behind your ear. You didn’t want to know what you looked like. “We’re gonna cure you.”

“Sam -” Dean’s tone was edged with warning.

“You need to kill me,” you replied, voice going dead. “I’m a monster.”

“You haven’t hurt anyone. We just need to know which vamp fed you their blood.” He was searching your eyes now, looking for any hint that you might know. You looked back blankly, trying to remember anything about the event. “Do you remember anything?”

“I was driving out of town. I stopped,” you paused, trying to think, “I stopped to have a smoke.” None of them said anything as you struggled to pull the memories free. “Something smashed the window. Grabbed me. I… it hurt. I… fuck.” You squeezed your eyes shut, concentrating but the sound of their heartbeats was making you feel nauseous with hunger.

“It’s okay. You’re safe, just relax and you’ll remember,” Sam whispered, touching your shoulder. The contact made you freeze and you felt your second set of teeth descend.

Just as weird the second time round.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” you sobbed, voice contorted by too many teeth. “Please, Sam,” you looked up at him, tears mixing with the blood on your face, “you gotta kill me.”

Sam stared at you for a moment, his features becoming steeley and he stood up, walking away towards his father and brother. “We can’t,” he insisted. “She deserves a chance.” John rolled his eyes, turning away. “Maybe you can be cold hearted about the facts, Dad, but we know her.” Sam pointed back at you, fury on his face. “She’s a good person. She doesn’t deserve to go out like this.”

That seemed to catch John’s attention and he looked over at you, something unrecognizable in his expression. Dean sighed, running a hand through his hair.

“So what do we do?” he asked, holding his hands out in surrender. “Leave her here while we figure out which one of these bloodsuckers was the perp?” He fixed his brother with a pleading look. “We don’t have the supplies for it, Sam. It could take days.”

You closed your eyes again, feeling Aron’s cold hand on your face. He was grinning, your blood smeared around his lips.  _ “You could save us all, pretty little Omega. _ ”

A wrist pressed against your mouth, coaxing your lips to part. There was a devil’s fork tattoo on his thumb.

“Aron,” you whispered, gasping and looking up. “It was the big one, lead vamp.” All three men were looking at you now and Sam nodded, waiting for more. “He was huge. Black hair, 90’s reject.” You met Sam’s eyes. “Think Joey Tribbiani on steroids.”

“Anything else?” John asked.

“A tattoo. A devil’s fork on his thumb.”

Dean shrugged. “Right or left.”

You glared at him. “I don’t know, I was too busy being turned into a creature of the night.” He looked away and raised his eyebrows at the retort, moving off to start checking the bodies. Sam took another pile as John went to the back.

“I’m not finding any black haired dudes over here,” Dean grunted, kicking a head across the floor.

“Me either,” John called.

“Is it me,” Dean murmured, rolling a torso off of another body, “or was this vampire nest a sausage fest?”

You groaned at the awful joke. “There was one woman. Skanky white trash lookalike.”

“There’s no thumb tattoo on any of these,” Sam sighed, trudging back over. “You sure?”

Dean returned to where you were tied, his father following shortly after. “No tattoos, no lady vamps neither.”

“Guess we’re back to killing me,” you drawled, looking at Sam who was scowling. “They got away. Aron and Delaney. Sounds like a bad Hallmark movie.”

“You’re remarkably calm for someone in this situation,” Dean commented, folding his arms across his chest. “I mean, when I was a vampire -”

John looked at him sharply. “Wait, what?”

Sam laughed nervously, shaking his head. “Story for another time.” He moved closer to you, reaching down to undo your bindings, ignoring the protests of the other two men. You stared at him in horror. “We’re taking you with us. We’re going to track down the Hallmark vamps and get the blood for the cure.”

“You make it sound so simple,” you quipped. “At least put some handcuffs on me.” He pulled a pair from his pocket and you raised an eyebrow. “If I didn’t know you, I’d think you were kinky, Winchester. Handcuffs on demand.” Sam’s cheeks turned red and a funny smell caught your attention.

“Please, stop talking,” he murmured.

“Good idea,” you whispered back, shutting your mouth.

Getting to your feet, you let Sam cuff you, obediently waiting for their decision. You felt oddly calm about what was happening - short life span and all. It certainly felt better to go out in the hunt rather than lonely and cold somewhere, slowly fading as your organs failed one by one.

“Sunlight,” John pointed out, still holding his machete. Blood dripped from the tip onto the floor, making a funny “plink” noise that only you could hear. “And how do we track two vamps we know nothing about?”

Sam glanced at you expectantly and you stared at him like he was insane. “What?”

“Don’t you have their scent?” he asked and you blinked.

“I don’t know! I’m not a bloodhound,” you spat back indignantly. There was a moment of silence before you remembered Aron’s taunting words. “He wanted me for something.”

John’s finger clenched around the machete, an imperceptible movement to the two younger men, but your senses were running at squirrel-on-cocaine levels. His heart rate accelerated, his pupils dilated and his entire posture rippled with aggression.

But not towards you.

“What?” he muttered and you felt heat curl in your belly.

“He said…” you closed your eyes, recalling the words. It was hard to focus with the immense amount of sensory input you had going on. “He said I was gonna save the race. Was really interested in me being an Omega.” Your chest felt tight as you opened your eyes again, finding John instantly.

Sam’s grip on your cuffs tightened. “Omega blood is sweet to them. Like a delicacy.”

You scrunched your nose up in distaste. “Ew.”

“But then why would they turn her?” Dean questioned. “They can’t feed off her if she’s a vamp.”

John was deathly silent but his eyes spoke volumes. He knew exactly what they wanted you for. You narrowed your eyes, jerking your chin towards him. “You know something.”

“It’s a fairy tale,” John grunted, turning away, “I’m gonna bring the car round so you can get her in without burning her.”

Neither brother argued and you stared at John’s retreating back. You had a horrible feeling that you already knew what he knew, but you needed to hear it from someone else. “Sam,” you whispered and the youngest Winchester’s head perked up. “Would you please knock me out?”

“Huh? Why?”

Your eyes were brimming with tears. “It’s too much.”

Dean stepped up, understanding in his eyes. He didn’t say anything, and the next second it was blissfully dark.


	3. Chapter 3

They didn’t put you in the trunk. Keeping your hands bound and tying your feet, Sam laid you in the backseat of the Impala, shielding you from the sun with a blanket. He shut the door, watching you for a second before turning to his father and brother.

“Look, Sam,” Dean started, “I’m just sayin’ this because we know it’s true; hunters die. Fact.”

“We’d go to the trouble to save a civilian we didn’t know, Dean,” Sam countered. “You’re saying because she’s a hunter we should just kill her and be done with it. The job is about saving lives.”

John sighed, shaking his head. “Look, we gotta track down the two that got away. If they’ve tried this here, they’ll try it somewhere else. If we can save the girl at the same time, great.”

Sam gave him a filthy look. “Her name is Y/N,” he spat, gritting his teeth. “You don’t even know her.”

“Sam, you barely know her!” Dean pointed out. “She’s a recluse. Doesn’t work with other hunters. Look what happened to that dick she was runnin’ with a few years back.” He snorted, crossing his arms over his broad chest. “And she says we’re the cursed ones.”

“Jason Merrick was as dumb as they come and you knew that.”

“Merrick?” John asked. “Any relation to Thomas Merrick?”

Dean gave his father a puzzled look. “Yeah, his kid, I think.” John made a disgusted noise. “What, you knew him?”

“Dumb as a rock. Not surprised his kid went into the life.” His gaze drifted to the back seat of the Impala. “She was with him?”

Sam shrugged. “We assumed she was. Jason died on a hunt two years ago, I think?” He looked to Dean for clarification but the older brother just shrugged. Neither of them really kept up to date on the comings and goings of other hunters. “Not that it matters. We gotta figure out how to track these vamps.”

John moved off, searching the area and Sam returned to the car, pulling his laptop out of the trunk. He opened it and started to search, utilizing his skills to access the local traffic cameras. Dean stood by the car, watching you.

“You got a thing for her, Sam?” he asked, leaning his elbows on the car roof.

“No, Dean,” Sam murmured back, his tone exasperated. “You think because I want to save her life that I’m in love with her or something?”

“I dunno, man. You’re pretty insistent,” Dean mumbled.

“Aren’t you sick of watching people die for no reason?” Sam demanded, but Dean simply stood there in shock at his brother’s venom. “Just… go see if Dad found anything.” The elder Winchester turned around, stalking away with a foul look on his face.

John was around the other side of the warehouse, picking through rubble to find anything that might help. He didn’t look up as Dean approached but he knew he was there instantly. “Is she okay?” he asked and Dean nodded. “Sam find anything yet?”

“No,” Dean sighed back, picking up something on the floor that looked interesting and turned out to be a piece of shrapnel from the roof of the building. “Got all offended when I asked if he and Y/N had something going on.” John’s head snapped up at that and Dean frowned. “Jeez, why is everyone jumpy about that question?”

“Sam’s just trying to save her,” John grunted, avoiding his son’s eyes. “He’s passionate.”

“And I get that,” Dean muttered, shoving his hands in his pockets, “but I don’t see how we’re gonna track a couple of vamps that could be miles away by now.” He looked around, eyes running over the destroyed van and the wall he’d taken down with it. “She wasn’t even supposed to be here.”

One eyebrow arched high as John turned to him, an indistinguishable expression on his face. “Well, she was. We gotta deal with it.”

“Guys!” Sam’s shout had both men jogging back to the car, as the tallest Winchester held up his laptop. “I got a hit. Traffic camera on Fifth. The only car to pass in the last hour was an old Buick with the back windows blacked out.”

“You get a plate?” Dean asked and Sam nodded, already climbing into the front seat of the Impala. John slipped into the back as Dean opened the driver’s door.

“They went south on the Interstate about twenty minutes ago.”

John lifted your head, letting it rest across his thigh. You were cold as stone when his fingers brushed your face and he tried not to focus on the lingering scent of blood in the car. “Can you track them?”

“I’m on it,” Sam replied, tapping away at his laptop. Dean started the engine, meeting his father’s eyes in the rear view mirror. John gave him a small smile and Dean turned his gaze to the road. “Dean,” Sam muttered, frowning at him and Dean cleared his throat.

“Yup.” He pulled the Impala away from the warehouse and onto the main road.

*****

You looked so small, John thought, staring at you curled up on the back seat. The drive had been quiet and they hadn’t caught up to the Buick yet even though they’d crossed the border into Kansas an hour ago. Sam occasionally told Dean to change direction but so far, the vamps hadn’t stopped and with the bright fall sunshine overhead, it was unlikely they would.

John knew nothing about you yet he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about you. Ever since he’d laid eyes on you in the motel room, he’d been consumed by your scent. Sam had warned him you were Omega but John hadn’t taken any notice - since he’d been back, he hadn’t been through rut and he could only assume it was because Mary was long gone. She hadn’t been Omega but she’d been his soulmate.

Or he’d thought so, until he’d discovered all the things he didn’t know about his late wife.

You’d stirred feelings in John that he hadn’t wrestled with in decades. Revenge became his only emotion, protecting his boys his only mission. Looking at all the good Sam and Dean had done, it was easier not to regret the way he’d raised them.

They didn’t need him anymore and he’d accepted that. What he was struggling with was the loneliness.

“How well do you know her, Sam?” John asked, somewhere past Kansas City, hours into the drive.

Sam glanced back, frowning at you. “As well as anyone does, I guess. Y/N isn’t a people person.” John recalled Dean’s comment about your opinion on people and smirked. He could relate. “I know she got into hunting through her family. We met her at Bobby’s a few times but she doesn’t tend to get chatty.”

“She never did with that douchebag hanging around her,” Dean muttered, shaking his head. “Man, he was a pain.”

“Jason?” Sam clarified and Dean nodded. “He had a thing for you, dude.”

“What?” Dean exclaimed, screwing his face up in disgust. “Shut up.”

“Hero worship,” Sam sniggered. “Remember that one hunt we partnered with him and that other guy, er, whatisname -” He clicked his fingers, trying to remember his name.

“Trevor,” Dean filled in.

“Yes!” Sam pointed at him, grinning. “Trevor ended up being a chew toy and Jason nearly got me killed.” He shook his head, laughing. “You kicked his ass for that.” Dean snorted in disgust and looked back to the road. Sam tapped his arm, following his laptop. “Just picked them up on the south road. Take the next exit.”

A pothole made the car shudder and you whined, squeezing your eyes shut and turning in John’s hold. “Er, boys?” Sam turned, eyes widening. “I think Sleepin’ Beauty’s about to wake up.”

Dean glanced over at Sam. “Dad can’t knock her out from there,” he pointed out, turning the Impala off of the main road. “Do we have any dead man’s blood in the trunk?”

“Dean, that’ll hurt her,” Sam murmured, keeping his eyes on you as you curled into an even tighter ball, instinctively protecting yourself.

“We might not have a choice,” Dean replied, putting his foot down. “How far behind them are we?”

Sam looked down at the laptop, tapping a few buttons. “Maybe fifteen minutes. We need to stop, she’s…”

Your eyes popped open. “Awake,” John supplied, meeting your confused gaze. “Hey, there, sweetheart? You still with us?”

With your hands and feet bound, you couldn’t do much except wriggle, so you opted to stay still, nodding slowly. Unbelievable hunger churned in your gut and the small space was filled with the sound of rushing blood and heartbeats. John’s leg underneath you pulsed with blood and you could feel the itchiness of the vampire fangs in your gums.

“Hungry,” you managed, closing your eyes in shame.

Sam was still tapping at the laptop. “Dean, we have to stop. They’re gonna have to run outta gas at some point.”

“Drop us at a motel,” John decided, looking at the two boys, one hand resting on your shoulder. “I’ll keep watch and you go ahead.” Dean frowned into the rear view mirror.

“What? No.” He shook his head. “We’re not leaving you alone with her.”

“She won’t hurt me,” John scoffed. “I’ll keep her tied down and safe and you go get the blood to cure her.”

God, you were so hungry. The aching pain in your stomach was at least enough to distract you from every tiny noise you could hear. To be honest, spending another minute in the car was the last thing you wanted, and at least in a motel room John could smother you until you passed out or something.

Sam looked at Dean. “It would be easier, Dean,” he said softly. “We need to get them before she runs out of time. If she doesn’t feed -”

“She’ll die,” Dean acknowledged. “Fine. Text updates on the hour.”

John chuckled, wondering when Dean had become the senior officer but he nodded anyway, dropping his gaze back to you. “You’re gonna be okay,” he whispered and you hoped he wasn’t wrong.

 


	4. Chapter 4

Motel rooms had never bothered you. You’d slept in some of the most dire places on the American highways and survived to tell the tale. But before now, you’d had normal human level senses. Smells and sounds were mostly ignored, you weren’t inundated by them.

Now, you could smell the lingering scent of sex from the room previous occupant. You could feel the stickiness of the busted air conditioner pumping out fumes and the individual springs that were broken inside the mattress. How could anyone want to be this? It was horrifically overstimulating.

Dean and Sam headed off, trailing the Buick once more and you sat on the motel room bed, trying not to think about all the different things you could smell and hear.

Someone was masturbating in the room next door to a Disney film - The Lion King for some reason - and you wished you were deaf.

“You look tense,” John commented from his seat at the kitchen table.

You gave him a dry look. “Me? I feel like I’m on a spa day.” The sarcasm raised a smile from him and he stood up, walking over with a beer. He held it out to you and you raised an eyebrow. “I’ll pass. That smells disgusting.” John shrugged and turned away and you frowned, feeling a familiar ache in your gut. “Er, so, I need to pee.”

He froze, glancing at you. “Huh?”

“Apparently, vampires pee,” you replied. “I mean, I’m still half-human, right? Until I feed?”

“Yeah,” John drawled, looking toward the bathroom door.

“If it makes you feel more comfortable, you can keep a gun on me,” you offered. “But this room smells bad enough without having to deal with sitting in pee.”

John sniffed. “I don’t smell anything,” he commented.

“You wouldn’t,” you muttered, shuffling as much as you could. John rolled his shoulders as he approached you, untying your feet first before helping you up so he could get the cuffs off. The close proximity was almost intoxicating and when his fingers brushed yours, you shuddered.

“You okay?” he asked, concern making his voice sharp.

“Yeah,” you replied, rubbing your wrists as John freed them. “In the spirit of being free, you mind if I take a shower?” He chuckled at that, nodding but your expression fell. “Shit, my duffel was in my car -”

“I’ve got mine,” John replied, returning to the table and dragging it out from underneath. He opened it and rummaged through, pulling out a shirt and some boxers. “These might be a little big…” Handing them to you, he trailed off.

You took them, smiling appreciatively. “Thank you.”

“You seem a little better,” he commented. “More… together.”

It was hard not to laugh at that. You felt like you were falling apart. The excessive noise and overbearing smells were becoming easier to cope with but along with the heightened senses came heightened… everything.

You were still going into heat. The crippling agony in your belly proved that. That and the fact that you weren’t looking at John’s throat anymore. Your eyes had dropped way down south.

“You okay?” John asked again, reaching out to touch your shoulder.

You jerked away like you’d been burned and smiled at him before bolting into the bathroom, underestimating your enhanced vampiric speed and hitting the door with your arm. Trying not to look back as you fell through the door, you slammed it and sank to the floor, covering your face with your hands.

Minutes ticked by as you sat on the cold stone floor, trying to compose yourself. John’s scent was everywhere and it was driving you insane. You could hear him in the room behind you, leafing through a book; you could hear each page turn, which was fucking ridiculous.

Getting to your feet, you took care of your immediate need to pee and stripped off your ruined and bloodied clothes. Your skin was caked in dirt and dried blood and you grimaced as you had to literally peel your shirt from your belly.

Turning the shower on, you sighed in relief as the sound of the water overwhelmed everything else and you stepped under the spray, turning it up as hot as it would go. Within seconds, the water at your feet swirled with grime before disappearing down the drain.

You stood there for ages, letting the water soothe your aching body, focusing on nothing but the feel and sound of it. Grabbing a washcloth and the cheap motel soap, you scrubbed yourself down, taking your time, growing more concerned with each patch of blood and filth cleaning away to show unmarked skin underneath.

“Vamp healing,” you murmured, rubbing your thumb over your pulse point, feeling it steady and slower than it should be. “God, this sucks.”

The motel shampoo smelled like sweet perfume that singed your nose. You washed it out quickly, ducking your face under the spray to try and rid yourself of the scent.

As soon as you turned the spray off, the world outside came crashing back in with all of its noise. You stood naked in the shower cubicle, hands braced against the yellowing tiles as you tried to breathe. Focusing on one thing seemed to help and you reached out blindly for the towel, finding it on the rack. The material was cheap and scratchy; you focused on that, the slide of each strand against your skin.

John’s footsteps preceded his knock on the door, the sound akin to a bass drum being slammed into your head. You needed a distraction, something to dull the pain of everything.

“Y/N? You okay in there?”

You gasped and stumbled forward, colliding with him as he opened the door, his eyes wide. He barely caught you in his arms, your scent taking him by surprise. “John,” you whispered, clinging to his shoulders, shivering as water coated your skin.

He smelled so good.

“We can’t,” John growled, “we can’t, Y/N.” He was trying to push you off now but you were stronger, even in your half-human state. Your body pounded with the effects of your heat and grinding against him relieved a little of the pain in your head.

“Please,” you begged, almost tearing at his shirt with your fingernails. John pushed at your shoulders again, sending you stumbling backward and allowing him to escape the bathroom. You cried out in pain, reaching out with one arm. “John, I can’t… everything…”

“Y/N, if I touch you, I won’t be able to stop,” John panted, bent double with his hands on his knees. “If I bite you, I’ll turn. If you bite me, you’re stuck as a vampire forever. It’s too fucking risky.”

You shook your head, crying now, tears mingling with the water still on your cheeks. “Then you don’t mark me, I won’t bite you -”

John’s expression crumpled. “Do you really think you could stop yourself, sweetheart?” he asked earnestly. “Because I know… I know I couldn’t.” His admission was soft and you lowered yourself to the floor. The pain you were in was visible and John sighed, straightening and grabbing his gun from the table. “I’m sorry,” he murmured, approaching you. You looked up, just in time to see the butt of the gun coming towards you before everything was dark.

*****

John had tied you to the bed nearest the bathroom. When you started to drift into consciousness, the first thing you saw was his sleeping form, facing you, eyes closed and face relaxed in his slumber. Like this, you could see the features that his sons shared with him.

It was only a few seconds before your mind became aware of the pain still lingering in your body, the change still fighting to take over, your heat making it worse. Sweat broke out across your skin and you arched on the bed, testing your bonds.

Your struggles woke John instantly and he sat up, pupils swallowing the color of his eyes as he realized what the problem was.

“Shit,” he growled, running over to the side of your bed and placing his palm across your forehead. You were burning up, arching into his cooler touch. “The venom must be doing this,” he muttered, abandoning you to grab a cool towel from the bathroom. A pitiful whine left your lips when he pressed it to your cheeks and forehead, the chill doing nothing to soothe you.

“John,” you groaned, “please.”

The heat was still building in your core and you tried to focus on John’s scent, ignoring every other sound and smell filtering through your enhanced perception. John groaned when the thick aroma of your arousal caught up to him, stumbling backward.

“John.” Your voice was weaker now. All you see, taste, smell, want was three feet from your side. “Gag me.”

“What?” he hissed.

“You can control yourself,” you whispered, rolling onto your belly as best you could, almost dislocating your shoulder, crying out in pain. “I need you, Alpha.” The whimpering plea was enough to get him back on his feet and he reached over to free one wrist, allowing you to properly lay on your front. He secured your wrist again, making the position less comfortable but not so bad your arm was being torn off.

You pushed your knees up under your hips, lifting your ass from the bed and John almost snarled at the presenting pose.

“I knew this would happen,” you admitted, pressing your forehead into the pillows. “I don’t wanna die. But if it’s this or a machete -” You trailed off, choking out a sob. The pain of needing to feed was almost stronger than the pheromones forcing your body to be as receptive as it could be.

John’s hand settled on your lower back. “We don’t have to gag you,” he murmured. “The boys will be back soon and -”

The lights went out. You froze, deathly still, listening, knowing you should have been paying attention.

“Well,” Aron’s thick accent rolled through the room, “if you’re not up to the task.” John growled, pulling his gun from his belt. The vampire Alpha stepped into view as John’s eyes adjusted to the dim light from outside. “I can always lend a hand.”

John cocked the gun. “Touch her and you die.”

“It’s a gun,” the vampire drawled, shrugging carelessly. “Doesn’t scare me.” He peered around John towards the bed where you pulled at the cuffs. “You could just leave. You don’t want her. She’s a vampire.”

“There’s a cure, jackass,” John ground out, keeping his aim on the vamp. You whined, the drama not taking away the ache tearing up your insides and Aron scented the air.

“Oh, she’s ripe. I just gotta get some human blood into her,” he leered at John, reaching out to click the lock on the door. “Get her strong so she can bear me a new race.”

John snorted distastefully. “That’s a myth.”

Aron shook his head slowly. “No, it’s not. And I’m going to prove it.” His eyes darkened and his secondary set of teeth descended, glistening in the darkness. “She’s just the first.”

The gunshot sounded as Aron lunged and you screamed, pulling so hard at the cuffs, the headboard broke. Now free, you turned, seeing John pinned to the floor, his gun nowhere in sight, with Aron’s teeth centimeters from his jugular.

You snarled and the vamp looked up, his fingers slowly choking the hunter underneath him. “Ah, you’re up. Hungry?”

John’s pulse was framed by Aron’s thick fingers and you stared at it, focusing on the thump-thump that was faster, blood pulsing with adrenaline. John increased his struggles; his scent caught your attention, warming your chest as it quelled the blood lust.

Aron barely had time to react as you tackled him, lifting his weight off of John’s body and tearing at him with your fingernails. The bigger vamp fought back, not succeeding against your increased newly-turned strength. John shouted for you and you turned, eyes locking on the machete that skittered across the floor.

In seconds, the blade was sinking through the flesh and bone of Aron’s neck, cutting off his death rattle with a sickening crunch, blood spurting from the severed arteries as his head rolled away.

The room was silent and you rolled off of the dead vampire, covered in blood and panting heavily. John stared, frozen where he crouched next to the bed, one hand holding his throat where bruises were already beginning to blossom.

His phone rang, making both of you jump. John scrambled for it, answering as you rolled over onto your side, away from the thing that had tried to turn you into a breeding bitch. You shuddered at the thought of what might have happened to you.

“Yeah, I got her, she’s okay. You’re on your way back?” A pause as the caller answered and John nodded. You closed your eyes, surrendering to the pull of unconsciousness. Everything was too loud again - you could hear Dean on the other end of the phone.

John’s voice echoed in your head as you slipped away in blissful darkness.

 


	5. Chapter 5

“Sssh.” Unconsciousness was still making your limbs heavy as someone lifted your head. You moaned in protest, feeling a cup at your bottom lip. Instinct clamored for water and you opened your mouth, eager for refreshment.

The taste that coated your tongue was foul and you attempted to spit it out, only for strong fingers to pinch your nose. Forced to swallow, you choked and cried out, feeling the thick fluid splatter against your chin. Your captors released you and you felt the pillows underneath your head as you slumped back down.

For a brief second, there was nothingness.

And then your insides were ripped apart.

Blood surged up your gullet and you spasmed on top of the covers, crimson spewing from your lips and staining the sheets and what was left untouched of your clothing. Hands tried to hold you down and someone was telling you to calm down, that it would be over soon.

The pain lessened to a bubbling lava that seemed to sear your skin from the inside out and you were aware of wetness on your cheeks. It could have been blood or tears, either way, you were starting to feel it congeal and dry, stretching your skin.

“It’s okay,” a warm voice rushed over you like a tide, seconds before a warm, wet cloth was bathing your face. You drifted in and out, unable to process anything going on around you.

When your mind started to clear, you weren’t in the motel room you’d been in before. The seat underneath you was cushioned with blankets but your pillow was someone’s lap. A warm hand rested on your shoulder and you smacked your lips together, trying to work up some moisture as you opened your eyes, wincing at the bright sunlight.

Dean’s green orbs caught your gaze in the rearview mirror and he smiled. “Whoa, take it easy there, princess,” he murmured, prompting Sam to turn around. You twisted to see John acting as your pillow.

Your throat hurt. Your head was pounding and you wanted to throw up and eat everything in sight at the same time. Cramps rolled through your belly and you winced - John slipped his arm around your shoulders and pulled you into his side, dragging the blanket up to cover you properly.

He didn’t speak, offering you a bottle of water that you snatched from him, gulping it down. You didn’t focus on anything else until your thirst was quenched and as you finished it, John was already offering you a bag of chips he’d produced from the bag at his feet.

“How long was I out?” you asked, giving Sam a weak smile as he watched you tear the bag open.

“Half a day,” he replied, meeting Dean’s eyes. “We cleaned up and got the hell outta dodge.”

“They tricked us,” you murmured and Sam nodded in confirmation.

“We caught the girl, took care of her. The male had doubled back around… I guess you know the rest.” You swallowed, fiddling with the bag of chips as you remembered the way the machete had slid through Aron’s neck like it was butter on a hot knife. It had been satisfying and disgusting all in one; you were glad the whole thing was over.

“And I’m not a vamp anymore?” Your question was hesitant and John chuckled.

“You wanna eat me or the chips?” he asked and you blinked, trying not to acknowledge the exceptionally pornographic response that had immediately come to mind. Instead, you settled down in the Alpha’s warm hold, opening the chips and starting to nibble. Sam returned his attention to the road.

When you’d eaten them, you scrunched the packet up and John took it, depositing it back in the bag between his feet. “Where are we going?” He smiled at you.

“Somewhere safe,” he replied. “Sam and Dean have got a pretty sweet set up in Kansas.”

You knew about their place. Another legend, one you never thought you’d see. The Winchester inner sanctum, a former Men Of Letters bunker that stood isolated near Lebanon. “Why?” The question came out of nowhere and John blinked at you in surprise. “I mean, why take me back there?” you clarified, frowning at him. “You don’t even know me.”

His hand tightened around your shoulder but he didn’t answer.

“You’re our friend,” Sam answered in place of his father. “And you’re a hunter. We wouldn’t leave you in some motel room. Not… not in your condition.”

John’s fingers clenched and you couldn’t figure out what it meant. “Just relax,” Dean murmured, glancing at you in the mirror again. “You’re still gonna be feeling weak for a while. Trust me, it ain’t a fun come down.”

“Great,” you mumbled, slouching against John’s side.

“Hey.” He nudged you and you looked up at him, suddenly aware of how far into his intimate space you were. “I’m gonna be there, okay. Whatever you need.” Heat pooled between your thighs but you nodded, squeezing them together and curling back into a ball on his lap, letting your eyes close and the rhythm of his fingers brushing along your arm lull you back to sleep.

*****

The Impala grumbled to a halt, the brakes squeaking a little and Dean flinched, mumbling something about “pads”. You yawned, stretching out the aches in your muscles as your belly rumbled loudly. Eyes wide, you glanced up at John who was smiling back.

“Good afternoon,” he greeted and you sat up, suddenly feeling how filthy you were. The clothes you were wearing weren’t your own and you blushed as you caught John’s scent on them. Another set of shirt and boxers but the clean fabric did nothing to disguise the stretching itchy feeling of fluids congealing on your skin. “You okay?”

“My clothes…” you slumped, your expression crumpling. “Everything I owned was in my car.”

Dean grinned, leaning over the back seat as Sam got out, stretching his long limbs. “Good thing we went back and cleared out the trunk, huh?”

“You did?” you whispered, looking between John and Dean. “But -”

“The car wasn’t salvageable,” John informed you slowly. “Dean and I have both fixed some wrecks in our time but…”

“Bloodsuckers did a number on it,” Dean finished, “there was no putting her back together.”

You sighed, thinking fondly of your poor old car. She’d done you well in the last ten years. “I suppose I should be thankful they didn’t burn her out.”

John took your hand. “Your things are in the trunk. How about we get you inside and showered? Might make you feel a little more, er,” he paused, smiling bashfully, an expression that should have been silly on a man his age but only came out charming, “human.”

Dean snickered but you were too busy staring at John like he’d just told you the answer to life, the universe and everything in it. He tilted his head at you and you realized what you were doing, your own cheeks heating up with embarrassment. “Sorry,” you whispered and Dean cleared his throat, vacating the car without another word.

“C’mon,” John murmured, “let’s get you to that shower.”

You looked up as John guided you toward the huge building they had parked outside of. The place was surrounded by thick woods on all sides, the imposing structure not giving off the impression that it was secure in the slightest.

“What is this place?” you whispered and John chuckled under his breath. “I’m not gonna lie; there’s a little bit of a serial killer vibe here.”

“You’re safe,” he promised, “this is one of the most warded places in the world. I was skeptical at first but you’ll be comfortable.”

Shrugging, you let him lead you inside, descending the steps behind him. The staircase opened up onto a balcony, another curved set of stairs down to a large room that looked like something out of an old war film. John took you past a lit up map, books scattered across the surface, along with a few empty beer bottles. “Bit of a bachelor pad, huh?” you joked and John hummed a non-committal answer.

Beyond the room with the table was a long corridor that led off into different directions. John seemed to know where he was headed and you went along without question, taking in the maze of rooms and hallways.

“I’ll fix you up with a bedroom,” he instructed, opening a door and revealing a large bathroom that seemed communal in nature. There was a lock on the door that you checked briefly; no one likes showering with the door unlocked. “There’s some soaps and shampoo on the shelf and towels,” John gestured to the rack, “right here.”

“Okay,” you murmured, looking around, “I’m… I’m gonna need something to wear.”

“I’ll get your bag and leave it by the door,” he replied, a forced smile on his lips. He was shifting uncomfortably and you inhaled with a stiff nod. “You need anything else?”

“No,” you hugged yourself, stepping away from him, “I’m good.”

John hesitated, almost like he wanted to say something else; it was only seconds before he changed his mind and turned, leaving you alone in the bathroom. You stared at the empty doorway for a moment, unsure what to do.

“Shower,” you sighed, “then figure out the rest.”

*****

As promised, John left your bag by the door, enabling you to reach out and snatch it without showing off anything you didn’t want to. Opting for a light pair of sweats and a vest, you pulled on a pair of socks to protect your feet against the tiled floors that seemed to cover the place.

It was easy to remember the way back to the main part of the bunker, clutching your duffel bag to your chest. Dean was the first person you found and he smiled warmly at you as you shuffled into the library. “Hey, darlin’,” he drawled, “how you feeling?”

“Kinda like I got hit by a train,” you grunted, dropping yourself into a seat at the table. Dean chuckled, nodding as he sat opposite you.

“I know that feeling,” he agreed, “but you’ll be feeling better in a few hours. Did Dad sort you out a room?”

“Yes, he did,” John answered, stepping up into the library, “and you’ll definitely feel better with some sleep.” You eyed him carefully - the buzz underneath your skin was still prominent, harder to ignore without the bloodlust to distract it. There was a packet of suppressants in your bag but it was likely that you were too far gone for those to be of any use.

Getting to your feet, you ignored the shaking of your hands; John took your bag, coaxing it from your fingers with a smile. “Lead the way,” you whispered, offering him a slight upward twitch of your lips.

He didn’t touch you, keeping a meter or so ahead as he led you back down the corridor to an open door. Inside, the room was moderately sized, with most of the space taken up by a large bed. “I’m just across the hall,” John murmured, walking into the room and dropping your bag at the end of the bed, “if you need anything.”

You nodded, cupping your hands in front of your body, avoiding his eyes. John shifted, moving around you to get to the door, almost out before you spoke his name in a shaky voice.

It was all you said. He took a breath, reaching out for the door handle, pushing the door shut. Remaining with your back to him, you closed your eyes, feeling him close the distance between you until you knew if you stepped back, you’d be against his chest.

“What do you want?” John asked, his voice a quiet rumble.

You kept your eyes shut.

His fingers ghosted over the bare skin of your shoulder, provoking a small shudder that journeyed up your spine.

“You,” you whispered.

“You don’t even know me.”

The pressure of his fingertips increased, stopping at the crook of your elbow. You could feel your heartbeat pulsing away under his touch. “I know enough.”

“I never had an Omega,” he mumbled, “never felt an attraction to someone like this.”

You remained quiet; you had felt the need for an Alpha, felt the touch of an Alpha but something told you that this was different. Jason had been an Alpha - John was the Alpha. Your Alpha. It was a raw and primal burning in your gut, like a wilder side that needed to possess him as much as you wanted him to claim you.

“You had an Alpha before,” John continued, stepping closer and placing his hands on your hips, the hardness of his body pressing into yours. It was all you could do not to let your knees buckle with desire. “You had one since?”

“No,” you admitted. “Too dangerous.”

“Trust issues?” You nodded, confirming his guess. John hummed, lowering his mouth to suck at the spot below your ear. A tiny mewl left your lips and you tipped your head to give him better access. “Do you trust me?”

“I -” His lips were hovering below your ear now, centimeters from the old mark Jason had left. “I don’t know.”

John paused, his long fingers splayed across your hips. “You can’t mark someone you don’t trust, Y/N.”

“Then don’t mark me,” you shrugged, pushing back against him, purposefully pressing your ass into his erection. “Just… please… I need your knot, Alpha.” Exhaling a growl, John turned you in his hold, gripping your chin with two fingers.

“I’m not gonna fuck you through your heat, Y/N,” he murmured, leaning in to brush his lips against yours, “and if I touch you right now, I’m going to mark you. I’m gonna sink my teeth over that mark and bury my knot in your sweet little pussy.”

You shuddered, feeling almost boneless, like he was holding you up with those two fingers alone. The crotch of your sweatpants felt like they were soaked with your arousal and John inhaled deeply, groaning as your scent hit him.

“You smell amazing, darlin’.”

“John -”

He cut you off with a soft kiss, forcing you to moan against his mouth. Your eyes fluttered shut for a second as your body responded in all the right ways. When John pulled back, his eyes were dark and you locked your gaze with his, almost panting with need.

“Do you trust me?”

 


	6. Chapter 6

_“Do you trust me?”_

His hands slid around your waist and down to cup your ass; you whimpered and pouted up at him. “Yes,” you murmured, “I trust you.”

John smiled, his fingers moving to pull your shirt over your head. “Lemme see you,” he purred. Lifting your arms, you let him remove the vest, tossing it to the side. You hadn’t bothered with a bra after your shower, a fact that seemed to please John - he groaned, cupping your bare breasts in his hands. “Beautiful.”

Your skin seemed to heat up with the compliment, your nipples pebbling between his calloused fingers. He teased them with his thumbs, coaxing you back toward the bed. As you sank onto the mattress, you grabbed for his belt, tugging at it impatiently. The buckle loosened easily and John stood straight, watching you unfasten his pants.

His cock was already steel when you pulled it free, wrapping your fingers around it. He was big, thick enough that your fingers didn’t meet when you stroked him. Six inches of solid flesh, a throbbing vein running from the underside of the flared head to the base where two inches of muscle formed his knot. John groaned when you stroked him from root to tip, running your thumb along the vein on his shaft, your eyes locked on the bead of precum that leaked from his slit.

“Fuck,” he grunted, wrapping his hand around the back of your head, “taste it, baby girl.”

Leaning forward, you darted out your tongue, running it over the tip and John moaned low in his chest. His taste was sour but not unpleasantly so and you took more of his cock between your lips. Using your tongue to stroke around his head, you covered the base of his shaft with your fingers, pumping slowly.

John ran his fingers through your hair, watching you with lidded eyes as you sucked his cock, taking him as far as you dared. There was no way you’d be able to fit him entirely in your throat - the prospect of having him inside you both thrilled and terrified you at the same time.

You mewled in protest when John pulled away, his hands pushing at your shoulders. “I’m sorry,” he murmured, leaning down to steal a kiss, “but I gotta be inside you, ‘mega.” A shudder traveled up your spine; you nodded and laid back, letting him peel your sweats down your legs as he straightened. John stripped quickly, keeping his gaze fixed on you as you reclined across the mattress, legs held together at the knee, concealing your most intimate parts.

When he was bare, he kneeled between your feet, big hands prying your knees apart and you sucked in a breath, nervous as he exposed your sex.

“Such a pretty little pussy,” he purred, dipping his head down, pushing your legs wider, “gonna get you ready for me, baby. Don’t wanna hurt you.”

You squeaked loudly when his tongue grazed your clit, his stubble scratching your inner thigh. His touch wasn’t soft but it was pleasurable - your eyes rolled back in your head, back arching as John buried his tongue inside you. The sounds he made were exceptionally obscene, bouncing off the walls to mingle with your whispered pleas for more.

John sealed his mouth over your clit, sinking two fingers into your twitching channel and you cried out, your climax catching you by surprise. He seemed to have been expecting it; one arm held you down as he fucked his fingers into you harder and faster, prolonging the bliss that made your thighs tremble.

It took you scrambling to get away from the intense sensations for him to stop and the satisfied smirk he flashed you as he wiped his hand across his mouth was almost infuriating.

Instead of calling him an asshole, you ground your teeth together, pushing up to meet him kiss for kiss. John growled into your mouth, grabbing your ass and hauling you against his hard body. “Gonna fill you up, princess,” he promised, kissing along your jaw, descending to your breasts. You gasped and whined when he dragged his tongue around each nipple, his fingers once again making their way to your soaked core.

“John!” His name rolled off of your lips in a shriek - John pushed you down, tapping your ass to make you roll onto your front. Instinct had you lifting onto your knees, curving your back so your belly was pressed into the mattress with your ass in the air.

John groaned, running his hands over your ass. “Presentin’ for me, sweetheart?”

You’d moved past caring about how it looked, how desperate you were for him. It wasn’t so much that you’d known he was yours right away, more than you knew you were his, and you’d never felt such an urge to lay claim to someone like you did with John.

He didn’t speak again, dragging the pad of his thumb along your swollen pussy lips. You whined, pushing back into his touch and John pulled away, fisting his cock. The tip pressed into you; John’s fingers spread your cunt open, allowing him to feed inch after inch of his thick shaft into your greedy hole.

His cockhead hit your deepest spots easily, leaving you pinned under his weight, gasping for breath. Pleasure overwhelmed you and you dug your hands into the sheets, clinging to them as John let you adjust to the size of him. You could feel his arms shaking where he held himself up, his lips brushing against your shoulder.

“Gonna move,” he murmured into your skin and you nodded, holding your breath as he withdrew. It was instant loss and relief when he pushed back in, rolling his hips against yours gracefully, your body slick with want. “You’re so wet,” John hummed, his thrusts growing in strength and pace.

You pushed your ass back and he took the hint, shifting onto his knees so you were a little further off of the bed. From this angle, it was deeper for both of you; you felt like you could put your hand on your lower belly and feel each punch of his cock into your body. John groaned as he watched your soaked cunt swallow him over and over.

“That’s it, sweetheart,” he crooned when you clenched around him, “keep doing that. Gonna make me cum with that sweet pussy.”

The filthy talk washed over you as every single pleasure center in your body fired. John fucked into you hard, the slap of his hips meeting your ass loud enough that you thought one of his sons might hear. He spilled dirty words as he fucked you, most of them lost among your whimpers and cries; it felt like one drawn out climax with each stroke hitting you in a way that made your toes curl and all the strength leave your limbs.

You were entirely his.

“C’mere,” John growled, tugging you up, cupping your breasts with his hands and holding you against his chest, “got such gorgeous tits, baby girl.” His thumbs teased your nipples; you arched and squirmed, trying to get more friction from his cock buried inside you. John chuckled, completely in control, his mouth covering the faded mark on your throat.

The sound you made vaguely resembled a ‘please’ and John snarled, thrusting up into you as hard as he could, forcing the thickening knot at the base of his shaft inside you over and over until you screamed and clenched, hitting your peak. His knot locked into you, swiftly followed by warm spurts of cum that filled your belly and rendered you a whimpering mess.

John’s teeth broke the skin on your throat easily, provoking only a slight mewl of pain - you were too lost in blissful hormones to feel much of it. The bite was quick and clean; he covered the wound with his mouth, dragging his tongue across it as you shuddered in his hold.

Lowering you both to the bed, John hooked one arm around your waist, spooning you against his body, still buried inside you. Sleep was drawing you under, the exhaustion of the last few days catching up to you. John kissed the spot below your ear, humming against your skin but you were already asleep.

*****

It was dark when you woke, shivering slightly. John was not behind you but before you could sit up and look for him, he reappeared, sliding back into bed behind you and tugging the covers up over you both. You turned, kissing him softly, renewed arousal making you drag your thigh up over his hips.

His cock brushed against your soaked core and you whimpered under your breath, pushing at his shoulder until he laid back. John remained still as you straddled him, rutting against his shaft; the tip bumped your clit with each roll of your hips. The sensitivity from your first coupling remained, your body on edge - it took only a minute or so before you were shuddering through a climax.

John tapped your thigh with his hand and you obeyed the silent instruction, lifting up so he could slide his fingers around his cock, guiding it inside you. Sinking down with a heady sigh, you balanced your weight with your hands on his waist, tipping your head back and arching your back slightly to feel the deep press of his cockhead against your cervix.

He groaned when you resumed your gentle rocking, his fingers splayed across your thighs, watching you ride him with your eyes closed. Your face was twisted with pleasure as you urged him deeper, digging your feet into the bed underneath you to get more friction from each stroke. His cock barely withdrew from your core but the way you ground against him sent shivers down his spine, his entire body vibrating with restraint.

You kept moving, getting closer and closer to a second climax. John’s nails dug into your skin when you clenched, moving your feet to hook them over his knees, giving you a little more leverage, a little more push against his body. A snarl tore from his lips as you found a spot that made your body jerk in pleasure; you did it again and again until you were panting, hovering on the edge.

His balls were pressed against your ass and you could feel his knot swelling inside you; an exquisite sense of being so completely filled sent you hurtling into your orgasm. John growled, losing himself and the warmth of his cum spread through your belly as you leaned in and placed your mark on his throat, savoring the copper on your tongue.

With a shudder, John went slack, his arms at his sides. You licked the wound on his throat clean, nuzzling into him when you were done. Thoroughly sated, you closed your eyes, letting the sound of his heartbeat lull you back to sleep.

 


	7. Chapter 7

Your stomach growled loudly as you stepped out of the shower, washing away the scent of sex on your skin. John’s unique aroma clung to you and you inhaled, smiling as the memory of the last few days came back to you. His touch lingered on your skin in the form of bruises and love bites; the mark on your throat was still tender from the constant attention John paid it.

Drying yourself off, you dressed and cleared up in the bathroom, heading to put your things away. John wasn’t in the bedroom and you quickly tied your hair up, locating your shoes.

You heard their voices down the corridor from the kitchen and you stopped, listening with a feeling of dread in your belly.

“You’re sure about this?” Dean was talking and it sounded like he was talking to John. “She’s young, Dad.”

“I know,” John replied and you smiled, leaning back against the wall, “but there’s not exactly any taking it back.” Your smile faded. “What’s done is done.” The dread in your stomach grew and you moved back a little, still within earshot.

“Did you…” Sam was in there too, apparently struggling with a question. “You know… use anything?”

“No,” John murmured quietly and you instinctively placed a hand over your belly. You hadn’t even thought about it. You’d been so lost in the sensations - fuck. It had been at least seven days since you’d taken your last birth control pill. Possibly more. “We didn’t really stop to chat about it.”

Except you had. In between sleeping and indulging in carnal pleasures, you and John had talked a lot. You weren’t interested in a relationship without secrets but it seemed John hadn’t been entirely honest with you. “Dad, you gotta be careful. Are you still going to let her hunt?” Your expression changed with anger at Dean’s words.

No one let you do anything.

“That’s her choice,” John said, “I’m never happy with anyone hunting. But I know there’s no walking away.”

“What if she did?” Sam asked suddenly. “What if she wanted to walk away? Would you go with her?”

Silence followed the youngest Winchester’s question and you pinned yourself against the wall, trying not to give into the tears that accompanied your rising nausea. A chair shifted in the kitchen and John cleared his throat.

“I don’t know.”

You backed away from the kitchen before the tears could fall.

*****

The duffel bag was open at the end of the bed. You sat at the other end, staring at it, unsure what to do.

A shadow blocked the light from the doorway and you looked up, fixing sad eyes on the Alpha as he entered the bedroom. John frowned, his gaze dropping to the half-packed bag.

“Y/N?” You didn’t answer, finding a point on the wall to stare at as he moved closer. “You plannin’ a trip, darlin’?”

Meeting his eyes, you felt your own brimming over with tears. “I don’t know,” you replied pointedly and his expression dropped.

“You heard…”

“I heard.” Shifting your right leg, you stretched it out, pins and needles making the hair on your arms stand on end. “I thought we were being honest with each other?”

“And I told them we hadn’t talked about it.”

“You told them we hadn’t had time to talk about it. And I’m sorry, John, but I think the subject of kids and the future is a little more important than the fact that the Seattle Seahawks are your favorite team!” His cheeks darkened as your voice got louder and you sucked in a breath, trying to control your emotions. It was easier said than done on the tail end of your heat - the crash from the high of the last few days was turning out to be a bitch of a come down.

“I just didn’t think it was the right time -”

“It wasn’t. But talking to your sons first?” You snorted derisively. “That wasn’t right either.”

“You were in the shower,” John defended, grinding his teeth together, “and they ambushed me while I was trying to have a fucking coffee. I didn’t know what the hell to say to them, Y/N! I don’t know if you noticed but those boys are goddamn strangers to me!”

Silence fell and you stared at him in shock, not moving when he turned suddenly and shut the door, clearly wanting a little more privacy. When it was closed, he crossed the room, dropping to his knees at the side of the bed.

“The last thing I want is to be scolded by my grown-ass sons about my love-life but sweetheart, I was dead for over ten years. Suddenly I’m back, I don’t know where I’ve been and I’m still adjusting. I wasn’t…” he reached over, taking your hands, “I wasn’t prepared to fall in love on top of all that.”

His declaration took you by surprise and John chuckled, lifting your knuckles to kiss them softly.

“You have no idea how hard it was to keep my hands off of you. Not being able to touch you when I wanted you from the second I laid eyes on you.” You tightened your fingers around his, tugging him onto the bed. John smirked, leaning in to kiss you softly, letting you nestle into the crook of his arm as he dragged the caress out.

“I felt like I was yours,” you murmured, “when I scented you, I knew it.”

John cradled your cheek with one hand, the tip of his nose brushing against yours. “You still mad at me?”

“No,” you replied quietly, lifting your hand to touch his face, staring into his dark eyes. “I wasn’t mad. I was,” you searched for the words but couldn’t figure out how to encompass what you wanted to say quickly, “I was frightened.” His eyebrows drew together in a frown. “It’s been a long time since I was with anyone.”

He chuckled at that. “Hell, it’s been a while for me too, sweetheart.”

“I know but you… you…” A disgusted noise replaced your words and you shook your head, sighing heavily. “When I was a kid, it wasn’t a big thing. My parents were hunters; I grew up in the life. When I lost them, I met Jason. I thought he was… y’know, my Alpha. The one I was supposed to be with.”

John’s expression darkened a little, unreasonable but understandable jealousy making him bristle. “But he wasn’t.”

“No,” you murmured, “Jason was an idiot. A convenience.” Lifting your chin, you fixed your eyes on John. “And I knew it because I never marked him.” He fell silent and you dropped your fingers from his face to the fresh mark on his throat, way above the collar, visible to anyone who happened to glance at him. “I marked you. And I don’t care if we hunt or not. I only care that we do it all together or…”

“We don’t do it at all,” John finished, stroking his thumb along your jaw, stopping as it reached your bottom lip. “Then we do it all together. We’ll figure it out as we go.” He smiled, leaning in to kiss you again.

You kicked out, dislodging the bag of clothes from the bottom of the bed, giggling when it hit the floor with a thud. John’s smile widened and he caught you in another kiss, deepening it and licking into your mouth, his hands wandering over your body, tugging at your shirt.

“I think I want you again,” he growled and you gasped, feeling his mouth over his mark.

“Don’t you wanna talk about protection?” you asked and he looked up at you with a glint in his eyes.

“I don’t know,” he teased, “maybe I like the idea of filling you up with pups. Seeing you all round and swollen with my babies.” Laughing, you dug your palm into his shoulder, shaking your head and denying to yourself the wetness between your thighs at his words. “I’m a lot older than you, sweetheart.”

“Well, technically…” You raised an eyebrow at him and John chuckled again. “I mean, you came back the same age. So you’re only a little older than me.” He ran his hand down over your ass, squeezing it firmly and you grinned, reciprocating by cupping his erection. “And you seem to have plenty of get up and go.”

John grinned wolfishly, pressing his lips to your harshly. You groaned into his mouth, letting your fingers trail over his growing bulge.

“You wanna fuck me bare, John?” you asked. “Or shall we play it safe? I could suck your cock until you cum in my mouth.” He grunted in approval, his gaze darkening as you pulled his belt undone, fingers making quick work of the zipper on his pants. “Or you could cum all over my tits?” you suggest and he groaned, hips jerking forward when your hand encircled his cock. “What do you want to do, Alpha?”

Dragging his lips over yours, John nipped at your bottom lip, almost purring as you stroked him slowly. “Do you want me to fuck you bare? Want me to cum inside you?” You whimpered, tipping your head back; John went for your throat, sucking a dark spot on the opposite side to his mark. “You seemed to like it, having me inside you, nothing stopping my cum from filling you up.”

“Fuck, John -”

“Let me have you, Y/N,” he begged quietly, forcing his hand into your pants, finding you already soaked and open for him, “lemme fill you up. Whatever you want, ‘mega, I’ll give it to you.” He sounded so desperate and strung out; you nodded, lifting your hips when he pushed your pants down, moving to free his cock.

You rolled on top of him, kicking your pants off - John tugged your panties to the side, not bothering to push his pants further than his knees. Before he could do anything, you fisted his cock, lining him up and sinking down onto his twitching shaft, both of you moaning at the sudden connection.

John cursed loudly, holding steady as you started to move, rocking him deeper into your body. He strained his neck, clenching his jaw as you purposefully flexed your pelvic muscles, squeezing his cock between your walls. His fingers clawed at your hips and he moved, flipping you underneath his bigger body without breaking contact. You shrieked as the movement forced him deeper, almost as if he was buried inside your womb and you gasped for breath, clutching his shoulders tightly.

“You asked for it,” he murmured, giving a few slow strokes so you could feel the entire length of his cock slipping out and sliding back inside your slick channel. A wicked smile stretched his lips and you whined a split second before he stopped holding back.

The bed frame squeaked under the force of John’s thrusts - you couldn’t make a sound for trying to breathe through the sheer effort of holding on. He stole what little breath you had with kisses, using his hands to hold your hips down, forcing more of his weight onto you. Lack of oxygen made you dizzy and you cried out weakly, eyes fluttering closed as you came hard.

John’s mouth was over his mark, sucking it until it wept fresh blood onto his tongue. His knot thickened, limiting his movements and seconds later, you felt the first spurt of warm cum inside you, John’s hot breathe coasting over your throat as he groaned his climax into your skin, holding himself as deep as he could.

Neither of you moved; your eyes remained closed as you savored the feel of him, knowing that when he had to pull away it would be unbearable, like a piece of your soul was going with him. Realistically, being like this would make life uncomfortable but right at that moment, not having your Alpha inside you seemed like the worst thing in the world.

Eventually, John groaned in discomfort, shifting onto his side. You slung one leg over his hip, allowing both of you to lay comfortably until he could withdraw.

“You know,” you whispered, still trying to catch your breath, “at some point, we should have a serious discussion. Winging it isn’t usually a great idea in this life.”

John hummed in acknowledgment, remaining silent for a moment. “What if I wanted to get out?” You blinked, frowning even though he couldn’t see your face where you were curled against his chest. Sighing, John turned his head to kiss the crown of yours; “I guess I’ve just been thinking about it all. I’m not gettin’ any younger. The boys don’t physically need me there. And findin’ out all this was some kind of destiny bullshit kinda makes me think -”

“That you could have a second chance?” you offered and John shifted so he could look you in the eyes, tilted your chin up with two fingers. “Dean and Sam don’t get a second chance, John. Could you really walk away from them?”

He smiled half-heartedly. “No,” he murmured, shaking his head and releasing you so you could return to the more comfortable position you’d been in, “no, I couldn’t leave ‘em. Not after everything. They deserve more than that from me.” John’s fingers stroked over your hair and you smiled, wrapping an arm around his waist. “Especially from me.”

“So what do we do?”

There wasn’t an answer immediately. Slowly, his knot receded and John withdrew with care, not letting you get far. He laid on his back, pulling you into his side, one arm around your shoulders protectively.

“If it happens, it happens. Take each day as it comes,” he decided and you lifted your head to look at him.

“I thought I said winging it wasn’t a great idea.”

John gave you a lopsided grin. “I was winging it when I met you. I had no idea what I was doing. So I’m gonna trust that whatever happens, happens for a reason.” You stared at him in disbelief and he chuckled, touching your face gently. “You think I’m crazy.”

“Isn’t everyone?”

He conceded the point with a nod of his head. “Us most of all. But, hey,” he tugged you in for a kiss, “we can be crazy together.” The corner of your mouth tugged up in a smile and you snuggled into him, letting your eyes fall shut.

 


End file.
